Fragments of Vision
by Stargazing BasketCase
Summary: Snapshots of dreamscape happenings: nightmares, illusions and frozen moments of perfection. Sheyla.
1. Part 1

Title: **Fragments of Vision**

Rating: T

Summary: Snapshots of dreamscape moments: nightmares, illusions and frozen seconds of perfection. Sheyla.

Disclaimer: Me no own :D

I'm in a really Sheyla mood recently… this is the third fic in like a week!

And I was sent a list of prompt words (the same one that **Best Laid Plans** was inspired from) and, 'cause I didn't want to write a fic for each, wrote a sentence. And there are like loads more prompts, so I dunno, I might write more of these, if anyone wants to see more… and I might even if no one does!

R&R is much loved… and enjoy!

Fragments of Vision

**_Pray_**

He has never seen her pray before; but now, as he opens his eyes to the muted lights of the Infirmary, she is sat beside him, eyes closed, brow furrowed, lips moving in what can only be described as a plead of mercy – for his life.

_**Knife**_

The blade is light in his hand as he watches the stranger warily: the other man with his knife pressed flush to Teyla's throat – John is torn for a moment, but, as the enemy's demands grow louder and a crimson bead adorns her dusky skin, his own knife drops to the ground with a clatter, loud in the tense atmosphere: a small price to pay for her safety.

_**Light**_

In the light of morning, she lies on her side, facing the wall, unwilling to roll over and shatter what she is sure _must _be a dream – until she hears his raspy, muted snores, and smiles.

_**Cold**_

He sees her shiver in the subzero air, her arms wrapped ineffectually tight around her small frame: he reaches out and draws her into his warming embrace, and she doesn't resist.

_**Affair**_

He tries not to watch as she laughs softly with Ronon, tries not to let jealousy infiltrate his carefully cultivated veneer of control and distance – he tells himself she's not having an affair because she was never his to start with, and that thought leaves him oddly empty.

_**Nocturnal **_

She never used to be very alert during the hours of darkness, unless it was essential, but now, as his fingers glide over her bare skin in a tantalizing pattern of seduction, she finds herself very much a nocturnal creature.

_**Movie**_

It's about halfway through the film that he feels her fingers brush lightly against his, almost asking for permission – he quells the racing of his heart, and accepts.

_**Wait**_

"Don't wait for me!" he had yelled to them as they raced to the 'gate, under fire and under duress – as the tears swell in her dark eyes and she stands at the head of his casket, she wishes that she hadn't listened.

_**Patient**_

He shrugs off her light-hearted reprimand, a message from Carson, with the throwaway comment, "Well, I never did make a good patient" – and the saucy wink he tosses her doesn't exactly hinder him either.

_**Crime**_

They had been warned that crime was rife, but she had never expected this; never expected to find him bleeding and unconscious in a grimy backstreet, half naked – she lifts him up into her arms, and breathes a heady sigh of relief.

_**Choke**_

He coughs suddenly, startled at her innocently-intended question; food sticks in his throat, choking him, until he looks up at her, incredulous, and exclaims, _"What?!"_

_**Fever**_

Carson said that she'd be okay, that her fever was going down, but the good doctor's reassurances don't stop John from sitting firmly beside her, his fingers linked through hers, his gaze never leaving her face.

_**Missing**_

She forces herself to breathe steadily, to keep a level head: he's gone missing before, this is no different – _he will be fine, _she tells herself, trying desperately to believe her lie.

_**Eat**_

He never actually enjoyed watching people eat before, but with her, with the way she flashes him a glance from underneath hooded lids, the way her tongue flickers across full lips, he finds himself captivated, unable to look away as she toys with him, like a cat does a mouse.

_**Lake**_

Water sluices across his lean muscles as he swims, silent as a fish, just beneath the crinkled surface of the lake water – with a devious smile, she strips out of her clothes and slips naked beneath the silver ripples to join him.

**_Chance_**

Her hand brushes his cheek softly, her eyes meet his – "Last chance to go," she whispers softly, words telling him he can leave, gaze begging him to stay: her unspoken question is answers by his lips on hers.

_**Appear**_

White silk flows over her skin, sheathing her form in pristine light – he is utterly speechless, and can only stand there as she moves, oh-so-beautiful, up the petal-strewn aisle towards him.

_**Whisper**_

She is blind in the darkness, cloth twisted across her eyes; she can feel fear setting in, creeping towards her with sinister malevolence – and then she hears his voice, whispering her name in the stillness, and the terror flees on wings of blackness.

_**Day**_

He'd been asked the question before – _What would you do if you had a day to live? _– but he'd never answered, unsure: now, intertwined with her lithe body in the first glow of dawn, he reflects that this is what he'd pick, without hesitation.

_**Scream**_

He can hear her, sobbing and screaming as they rip her mind to pieces – he throws himself against the bolted door, desperate to get to her, to save her, and as her voice fades, until she just whimpers his name over and over in a silent mantra, he screams out until his voice is hoarse; abuse and reassurance and blinding panic, all in three impassioned words: _"Let her go!" _


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st part.

No real notes on this, just wanted to make a very excited declaration… _I'm going to the Middle East in THREE DAYS!!!!!!!!_

Ahem.

Enjoy!

Fragments of Vision

_**Father**_

She traps his question unsaid by a finger to the lips, and smiles as she brings his hand to rest on her oh-so-slightly swollen belly: "You will be a father," she says softly, and the look of joy on his features makes all of it worthwhile.

_**Pack**_

He watches her pack slowly from his vantage point in her open doorway: his throat is dry and his eyes damp as he whispers, "Please don't leave."

_**Cranky**_

She wordlessly hands him a warm mug, a smile twitching her lips: she knows how cranky he gets without his morning coffee.

_**Fail**_

He skids to his knees beside her in the dirt, aghast: he stares into her lifeless dark eyes and his whole body shakes, while a single phrase runs over and over in his head – _How could you fail her? _

_**Confused**_

He sits back as McKay tries to explain hockey to her, a tiny smile twitching his lips: she's cute when she's confused.

_**Smile**_

With subconscious charm he flashes a brilliant smile at her, and, in a moment of pure attraction and unconscious longing, she smiles back.

_**Graveyard**_

She comes here once a month, to the graveyard on the mainland – she visits him twelve times a year, and leaves flowers and tears on the wooden headstone that marks his final resting place.

_**Alone**_

Loneliness had never bothered him before, but now, as he curls up on one side of the bed for two, he wishes that she were back from the mainland, and he wasn't alone anymore.

_**Haunted**_

He refuses to tell her why, every once in a while, he wakes from troubled sleep, sweating and terrified; refuses to tell her what it is that haunts his nightmares – all she can do is hold him and kiss him back to sanity when he sobs in the early hours.

_**Slow**_

Bureaucracy annoys him; it's too slow, red tape mangles everything – he has to wait, when all he wants to do is marry Teyla, and marry her _now_.

_**Return**_

He's being recalled to Earth and Elizabeth won't tell him why: he hugs Teyla hard in the 'gate room and she pulls him close and whispers in his ear, "Please return soon – I need you."

_**Fire**_

Candles flicker at the head of the bed – the flames mirror the fire in her eyes as she pushes him down on his back and trails her fingers down his chest.

_**Quake**_

The ground shakes beneath their feet, and she grabs him and pulls him away as the quake ripples through and a yawning gap opens where his feet were a second ago – fear shines in his eyes and his fingers don't let go of hers.

_**Blood**_

He's never seen so much blood before, and he can't tell where it's all coming from – all he can do is hold her in his embrace and press his forehead to hers as she sobs from the pain in a futile attempt to help.

_**Upset**_

So _maybe _John hits Lieutenant Andrews a little harder than he should have in training – all he knows is that the new Marine upset Teyla, and that's all he _needs _to know.

_**Honour**_

Her expression is stern as she lectures him that he did not have to fight for her honour: a crooked grin twitches his split lip as he replies, "No, but it was fun" – she rolls her eyes at him.

_**Winter**_

The cold winters on Atlantis were John's favourite time of year – it gave him a good excuse to hold Teyla in his arms all night long.

_**Ignorant**_

He's worked long and hard to make sure she's ignorant of what he's about to do, and as he opens the little box he's had in his pocket for a week, the surprise and delight on her perfect features justify all the secrecy.

_**Fool**_

She is no fool, no bumbling teenager, but as he smiles coyly at her across the dinner table, she finds herself blushing and fumbling for words.

_**Afraid**_

She peers over the edge of the cliff, her fingers clenched in her pockets – he nudges her gently and asks, "Afraid?" – she merely glares at him and steps back from the edge… quickly, and his amused grin shows that he noticed.


End file.
